


The Fall of Orion

by FirewhiskySoul



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Loosely Based on Mythology, Love Triangles, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 06:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21249269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FirewhiskySoul/pseuds/FirewhiskySoul
Summary: Loosely based on the myth of Orion, Apollo, and Artemis.Hermione Granger, while on the run, unexpectedly finds herself in the past. Orion Black is smooth, charming, and devilishly handsome. Tom Riddle is charismatic, self-assured, and oh so powerful. One is fire and one is ice. They both call out to the darkness within her.First chapter posted is for the Fairest Freaky Spooktacular fest, hosted by Fairest of the Rare





	The Fall of Orion

**Author's Note:**

> So I completely revamped this story the day it was due (because such is my life lol). This first chapter is for the FFS fest, and the rest of it will get banged out during NaNoWriMo. 
> 
> I hope this is spooky enough lol, enjoy!

  
The icy air stung her cheeks as she darted through the trees. Tears leaked from her eyes, down her cheeks, freezing in uncomfortably stiff tracks. Her nose was frozen, and she was fairly certain her chapped lips had split open again. She could barely feel the wand in her hand; her numbed feet seemed to be actively working against her as she tripped once again on a frost-covered patch of leaves.

Hermione Granger was positive that she would not survive the night. The odds were not in her favour whatsoever. She hadn’t had a proper meal in months, not since Bill and Fleur’s wedding. She’d lost Harry and Ron earlier that evening when Snatchers had suddenly appeared; the boys had panicked and Apparated away together, but they weren’t at the emergency rendezvous when she’d arrived. She had no plan, no backup, no safety. 

She was utterly alone in the wintery Albanian wilderness.

At night.

With a surprisingly intelligent Snatcher on her trail.

The situation was certainly not ideal. Hermione was rapidly running out of energy, not that she’d had much to begin with. If only she’d listened to Harry yesterday when he wanted to sneak into a Muggle village. Dark though her soul may now be, Hermione still hated to steal. Now she was more than half-starved with a crazed zealot hunting her.

The man’s footsteps were gaining on her own slowing pace. She could clearly hear his movement through the frozen, crispy underbrush, and vaguely wondered why he hadn’t Silenced his feet as she had. Perhaps it was just another fear tactic.

The rocky outcroppings that Hermione remembered from her research last summer finally began making themselves visible through the thinning tree trunks. Maybe she had a chance after all…

Trying to quicken her exhausted steps led to a bruised kneecap when her feet slipped again. She barely kept herself from swearing aloud at the shock. 

“You can keep trying to run, little girl, but eventually I  _ will  _ find you,” a gravelly voice called out in a sickening sing-song tone. Hermione didn’t think it possible to feel any colder, but her blood turned to ice at the words. It wasn’t any old Snatcher that stalked her; it was Fenrir Greyback himself. Any hope she had of escaping into the cave network before her and hiding vanished instantly. 

No wonder she hadn’t been able to lose him. He could track her both with magic and his heightened sense of smell. Greyback and his wolf were so closely intertwined that the only difference in him hunting her now versus during a full moon, was the fact that he was walking upright on two legs and speaking human words.

Still, though, Hermione Granger was not one to give up. She kept up her frantic stumbling, praying to Merlin, Morgana, Godric, and anyone who would listen to please not let him catch her. If she wasn’t so weak, she might’ve been able to stand against him, but malnourishment and hypothermia had taken their toll. Her body was sustaining itself with her magical core, but that couldn’t last much longer. 

The mouth of the closest cave was almost within reach when she heard Greyback’s voice behind her. “Mudblood,” he crooned, drawing the word out grotesquely. “I can smell you on the breeze. I can smell your exhaustion, your hopelessness, your…” He took a loud, deep breath and released it with a moan. “...fear. It is  _ delectable _ .” He made a noise halfway between a growl and a laugh, triggering an eruption of goosebumps across her entire body. 

A few seconds later - or perhaps a few hours, Hermione could no longer gauge passing time - her feet finally carried her across the threshold of the cave mouth. Instantly, her ears began ringing, and she clapped her hands over them with a wince. The air was stale, even just inside the cave where the bitterly cold wind should have been rushing in behind her.

Instead, it was utter stillness. Nothing moved. A deep, itchy sense of foreboding stole over her, pricking her nerves and tightening her stomach. Hermione lit her wand silently, inexplicably terrified of moving forward, but equally unable to move backwards. 

Several long moments passed in her indecision before she noticed that she could no longer hear Greyback. His harsh breathing was silenced, his heavy footsteps gone, even his disgustingly strong aura was absent. She chanced a look back over her shoulder. 

The cave opening was gone.

The entire entrance through which she had stumbled mere moments ago had simply vanished. Hermione gulped and gripped her wand tighter, though her magic was all but completely drained after using a simple Lumos. There was no choice now but to move on. Her instincts screamed at her to run away, but there was nowhere to run to. 

Slowly, Hermione forced her feet to take a step, then another, then another. She kept as close to the cave wall as she could, gripping her wand as tightly as her frozen fingers would allow. Every nerve in her body stung from the icy disapproval seeping from the rock walls. She could feel a faint malevolent presence infusing the entire cave, and it was extremely unhappy to be disturbed. 

Never before had Hermione felt such utter despair as she did right then. If only she had Harry and Ron with her, she was sure she could make it through whatever was happening. As she moved forward, the feeling of evil grew stronger and stronger until it was suffocating her. The fear was almost overwhelming, and she hunched in on herself more and more until she was crawling on the ground on her hands and knees. Tears once again streamed down her face. 

Without any warning, a huge crack sounded, whipping through the air with a heaviness that popped her ears. A bright flash of violet light erupted around her, causing Hermione to throw her arm over her eyes. The floor of the cave rolled once, twice, three times before opening up under her. She shrieked as the liquid rock bucked her forward into the gaping hole.

Hermione had a brief, insane thought that she was falling into Wonderland. The purple light had faded somewhat to a tolerable level, and it pulsed around her grotesquely as time became meaningless. The air rushing around her thickened uncomfortably, pushing against her inner organs and stretching her bones until her eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted.


End file.
